


Bits and Bobs

by ToxicBabes



Series: Tales of Apartment 8H [10]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anthology, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, Intimacy, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Romance, Tenderness, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26634430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicBabes/pseuds/ToxicBabes
Summary: A series of short works based on my developing interpretation of Timur and Maxim's relationship.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Series: Tales of Apartment 8H [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705774
Comments: 26
Kudos: 54





	1. Cold shoulder, cold feet, cold hands.

**Author's Note:**

> So it is what it says on the can, this is a collection of fics that aren't substantial enough to form an actual oneshot, generally small scenarios or interactions I wanted to write. All of these are written in one sitting. They may be repetitive or have recurring themes across my other works, though it's just simply what I was wanting to write at the time. I may include some commentary in an end note discussing some of the headcanons surrounding these two as well.
> 
> To new readers, you may see this is a part of the Apartment 8H series. Don't worry about reading all the other works in the collection as the purpose of classifying them together is to give a sense of chronology for anyone who wishes to follow the developments of the characters and their relationship. Apartment 8H is mostly about Timur and Maxim's lives as they move in with one another and it explores some personal themes as well as lighthearted ones. The only thing you need to be aware of is [Koshka](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161499). She is their cat, that's all you need to know. If you want to read a story of how she came into their lives, it is hyperlinked. 
> 
> This is rated mature as it features a bit of intimacy or sexually suggestive themes, however there is no actual smut.

Within the short space of time that Maxim went out for a smoke, Timur managed to go from sitting upright to sprawled across their sofa, Koshka perched on the armrest above his head as the television continued to paint the living room a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours with a nature documentary playing. Something Marius and Miles recommended to watch, so it must be good. 

The balcony door was still broken, no one bothered to fix it. Maxim figured it would be an easy enough job to repair by himself and as a result, he never remembered to bring it up with the landlord. Months passed and the lock remained stubborn, the hinges stiff and squeaky. The racket of repeatedly slamming it shut had not only annoyed Timur, but it scared Koshka and she retreated to their bedroom. 

“Instead of slamming it until it falls off, how about taking our day off tomorrow to fix it?” Came a cheeky suggestion, though one made with good reason and Timur didn’t seem inclined to move. The only path to take here was to lay atop of him and Maxim carefully sank his knee in the free space between Timur’s legs. The sofa cushions dipped under the weight. “You stink.”

“You like it,” Maxim teased and he leaned in to press a smelly kiss against his lover’s neck, only to be pushed away. “C’mere, I’m cold. I haven’t kissed you all day.”

There was no fighting this and Timur gave in with the slightest of smiles playing at his lips, every ounce of willpower taken to maintain his grumpy facade. The most minor shift in his facial muscles gave him away and only encouraged Maxim to make him break. “You kissed me this morning before brushing your teeth. Then you kissed me in the afternoon after your coffee and cigarette,” Timur brought up. A memory sparked his attention, he turned to look Maxim in the eye. “You don’t remember  _ biting _ my earlobe when we were sitting together during lunch? You’re an animal.”

Maxim did remember that part, but not all the others. The weather was nice enough to allow them to find somewhere remote to sit, so they went to their usual spot and spent their lunch in each other’s company. It wasn’t clear if the story wasn’t interesting enough, but Timur wasn’t listening to it, occupied by the blurry JPEGs on his phone screen. First course of action, nip his ear. Maxim did so and in response to the bewilderment, he had simply said, “Quit ignoring me, I’m talking to you.”

“You like it when I’m needy,” Maxim pointed out and it was true, but the thing was, Timur liked many aspects of him. When he was needy, when he pretended to be aloof, when he was fresh out the shower smelling fantastic, when he was an ashtray. When he would get crabby over too many kisses to when he latched into Timur’s side like a bloodsucking leech. “You went red when I did that. How about I bite you during sex?” 

The comment seemed to make Timur loosen up a bit. He tried to return his gaze to the television, hoping now Maxim would settle down. Fingers played with the hem of his t-shirt before easing off to massage his thighs, giving the sore muscles a light squeeze and he didn’t think much of it. Then before he could react, Maxim slid his palms under his shirt and splayed his cold fingers along the divots between each rib. Timur recoiled from the temperature and hissed. 

“You’re such a dick, you know that?” He muttered, face scrunching up and his entire body squirming but to no avail because Maxim had a firm hold on him. The older man kissed along his neck once again, the stench of cigarette smoke clinging so strongly to him that it overwhelmed Timur’s senses and brought about that familiar lightheadedness at the oppressive aroma.

“Warm me up,” Maxim requested, still feeling the hot skin under his palms and running them over every inch of Timur’s abdomen, both in admiration of his physique and to watch him tense up at the sensation of a cold finger grazing his nipples. “I know you wanna.”

He was right. Since the beginning of the evening, Timur had some stray thoughts coming into mind, though the kind sprouting from having a high libido rather than any specific lust. Either way, he was going to make Maxim evaporate. 


	2. Strange Noises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuhrat overhears some odd noises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing of importance to note before you proceed, this is just a humorous piece.

Shuhrat had the occasional suspicions, though he decided it was best not to question his teammates and to mind his own business. Unspoken amongst the Spetsnaz was the topic of Maxim and Timur. They acted differently around one another, especially so when they thought they weren’t being watched. Less of the fraternal machismo from Maxim, plenty of quiet chatter from Timur, the kind where you’d have to be standing right next to him to catch what he was murmuring. It helped that they were glued together constantly, whether at work or in their free time. 

It was something everyone had thought about at some point, though it didn’t warrant a discussion because no one held any strong opinions about the two of them being _together_ should it be true. Shuhrat didn’t care, they did their jobs properly and he trusted his life in their hands. Everything else, he tried to convince himself, was irrelevant. Though it didn’t stop his curiosity.

The facilities they were given during their stay was a single dorm, not exactly a five star hotel but better than nothing. Shuhrat had no issues with sharing a room with his three other colleagues, although Alexsandr did snore occasionally. The only part that worried him were the sounds he would hear once in a while.

“Does that feel good?” Maxim’s voice, followed by a short chuckle that made Shuhrat halt, his hand just grasping the door handle.

“God, yeah. Harder, please-”

With that, Shuhrat decided against entering the dorms. A shower could always wait and he went for an early lunch, still clad in the sweaty clothes he wore for the gym. When the evening rolled around and they grabbed dinner together, Shuhrat’s thoughts left him in an awkward silence, unable to focus on anything else than his two teammates getting down and dirty in their dorms. They were smiling, conversing as usual with no change in their behaviours, though Shuhrat questioned every minor interaction.

He came to peace with it eventually. As long as he didn’t have to deal with any noises when he wanted to sleep, he decided to turn a blind eye and ignore it. The following days passed with no issue and Shuhrat was beginning to think he was going to forget about this. 

It happened again when he was returning from the showers. What had him even more perplexed was that he _swore_ Alexsandr was in the room as well, all of them were settling down for an early night since training would be earlier tomorrow.

“Holy _fuck,_ right there. Don’t stop.” Timur sounded desperate and the way he groaned made Shuhrat’s blood drain from his face.

What on earth was going on? Steeling himself, Shuhrat tightened his hold on his expectations and he opened the door. The two suspects looked over at him, but his worst fears were just mere worries. Maxim was straddling the back of Timur’s thighs, digging an elbow into the muscles of his back to work out a knot. The silence lingered for a moment longer and no one moved.

Shuhrat swallowed the lump in his throat and closed the door behind him. “Y’know, you two make a lot of noise,” he commented as he climbed atop his bunk. “The walls are very thin here. You should keep it down.”


	3. Sunflowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timur gets Maxim some sunflowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff this week, very mild stuff and no warnings needed so I hope you enjoy!

His grandmother used to grow sunflowers in her garden. The giant ones taller than men, way taller than Maxim could comprehend when he was a small child. During the warm summers, they would crane their necks up at the sun and follow its arc along the clear skies, cradling the occasional fat bumblebee covered with golden pollen. 

The memory only returned to Maxim because they happened to be talking about flowers. How the topic came about, neither of them remembered, but after seeing the simplistic joy on his lover’s face, Timur made a mental note that Maxim’s favourite flowers were sunflowers. 

“I swear we had some,” Maxim muttered as he dug through the fridge, searching for the onions. He let out a sigh and accepted the humility of being wrong, unable to spare another glance towards Timur’s smug expression that told him so when they bickered for five minutes in the vegetable aisle.

“It’s fine, I’ll go get it.” Timur reached for his jacket and before Maxim could offer to go instead, he fished the apartment keys from the counter. “I forgot to pick up those treats for Koshka anyways.”

“Don’t be long, alright?”

The walk to the store wasn’t too far, but during the journey, Timur reminded himself repeatedly not to get sidetracked. This should only take twenty minutes at most and he’d rather not delay dinner for an hour because he decided to wander down the toiletries aisle for no particular reason. Although there was something incredibly calming about stepping into the supermarket, greeted by that specific, cold scent of the fresh produce in the refrigerated areas. 

A flash of amber caught his attention. In the rack of flowers, he recognised the sight of sunflower bouquets, all clustered together in a neat row. He paused in front of them and inspected them a bit closer before selecting one. There wasn’t a clear train of thought or any concrete reasoning behind his actions, but he was _set_ on getting the flowers and he reckoned Maxim would appreciate the gift.

No detours this time. Timur picked up the onions they missed during their first trip then paced down the pet aisle for the treats as per request. He spent a couple extra minutes looking at the cat treats and ended up grabbing some dried duck snacks for Koshka. She would definitely appreciate this. With everything paid for, Timur made haste to get home, holding the flowers close to his body to shield them from the wind. 

As he waited for the elevator, he checked their mail and pocketed the envelopes, tucking them in front of the cat treats to hide it from any suspecting neighbours. Three bodies crammed into the tiny elevator. Confronted with conversation, Timur managed to make it out alive after a brief exchange about his odd purchases. Onions and sunflowers, perfect for date night.

“New record. Seventeen minutes.” 

Timur kicked off his shoes by the door and looked over the half wall to see Maxim was preoccupied with preparing the rest of the ingredients. He passed the onions over then the bouquet of sunflowers. Surprise blanked Maxim’s expression. He took the flowers into his hands and blinked back at Timur, confused beyond any comprehension before he examined the purple plastic wrapping. It crinkled softly in their silence over the bubbling pot. 

“Do you like it?” Timur asked, almost made nervous by this pause as if it would be accompanied by a sad experience. Maxim was full of those.

Maxim nodded and the smile on his face grew wider and wider until he was grinning in that endearing manner that made Timur’s heart flutter at the sight of his joy, the healed tissue of his jagged scar contorting to make way for his happiness. “I’m just… really surprised? No one’s gotten me flowers before,” he admitted, seeming reluctant to put them down, but dinner needed to be cooked and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Timur do it. 

The distant chime of a bell grew louder as Koshka approached to investigate what Timur brought home. She pawed at the packet of treats before being completely enthralled by the flowers, giving them curious sniffs. 

Timur scratched her little head. He approached Maxim and wrapped his arms around the older man’s torso as always when they cooked dinner. The heat of his body radiated through his shirt, his skin burning all over with embarrassment. By now Timur could definitely tell no one had bought him flowers before, because these kinds of emotions were the type that were unforeseen. Despite the attempts to remain cool and collected, Maxim couldn’t hide the way his cheeks were flushed and Timur acknowledged it, pressing a firm kiss against his cheekbone. 

Maxim took in a breath then set down the knife in his hands. He turned and captured Timur’s lips in a gentle kiss, able to feel the autumn breeze from the coldness of his face. “Thanks.”


	4. Movember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The men of Rainbow participate in Movember. Timur and Maxim take part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated **mature** because it features some intimacy (that isn't smut) so just be aware of that. Other than that, enjoy. This one sorta went into my HCs regarding some other operators, a bit of discussion around mental health of soldiers as well as men in general.

At first, Maxim assumed it was a joke when Dominic mentioned it. It was within the German’s nature to pull such tricks, but then he’d realised almost every man was keen to take part in this event, or they were at least peer pressured into it. Aside from the gimmick of growing out an old fashioned moustache, they got together as a group and voted on which charity to raise money for. 

Miles and Gustave arranged small group sessions to talk about mental health, the stigma surrounding it especially for men in the armed forces. It wasn’t the most comfortable discussions, but they came to realise that the anxieties they held to themselves weren’t individual experiences. James began to talk about how the stress affected his own family and resulted in a separation from his spouse, Dominic shared his experiences regarding using alcohol as a sleep aid, how he teetered so close to falling into dangerous habits. Most of the men couldn’t find it within themselves to speak, even at times feeling forced to be present, but after a while it became a period of reflection. 

They were members of special forces, men whom society looked up to and depended on. Some came from stern backgrounds, raised in a manner that taught them to reject emotion and hide any weakness. They had family that saw them as pillars of strength and this alienated them to a strange, exalted position, placing them out of range when they wanted to reach for help. Expectations to live up to, the fear of vulnerability, a potential career to be lost, the futility of spilling one’s heart out only to be misunderstood, the refusal to admit that they could not shoulder their burdens by themselves.

A newfound respect began to bloom amongst them. Not everyone had the best relations, some of them rarely spoke to one another nonetheless knew that their colleague dreaded returning home during holidays, or that they couldn’t sleep in the same bed as their wife due to repeated sleep disturbances. It wasn’t always the discussion of deeply personal topics. Other days they would joke about how irritating fireworks could be, or that the sound of artillery fire was preferable over the hour-long edition of ‘Baby Shark’ which their kids adored. 

Each couple days, they gathered with a different prompt and set various goals. Choose one physical feature to be proud of, treat yourself to something you enjoy, complement a fellow colleague. The day Gustave handed out pamphlets on testicular cancer, the room lit up with immature grins and they figured they would be told to check for any lumps. It just so happened that night Timur suggested to Maxim they should take a bath together.

The tub was never big enough for one person, so they sat on opposite sides with their legs awkwardly positioned, knees cold from the cool air. Maxim reached for his glass of wine and took a long sip before reclining once again, his arms resting on the edges of the tub. He spared a lazy glance towards Timur who was watching him with a playful glint in his eyes.

Without a word, he leaned forwards and dipped a hand under the water. The sensation of fingers brushing against his inner thigh prompted Maxim to widen his legs a little and he raised a brow, smiling in response to being  _ grabbed  _ between the legs- no, Timur’s touch was delicate and gentle. He handled him with care. 

“Let me know if you feel anything unusual,” Maxim muttered, trying not to get too excited by the contact. It wasn’t the kind that intended for arousal since Timur was actually checking and if anything, the sensation was strange. “I’ll check your prostate too if you want.” 

“With that moustache? Absolutely not.” Timur gave a small chuckle and sat back. Seeing as he did not mention anything, then there was nothing to be concerned about. They were approximately ten days into growing their moustaches and it was definitely an unusual sight to see Maxim sporting one. Most of the time he kept a short stubble and didn’t stray far from it.

As much as Timur liked to joke it made him look gross, Maxim knew the younger man would not last the month without giving in to his libido. If it was bad enough to turn all the lights off in the bedroom to do it, he would. “I know you like it,” Maxim teased him and returned the oddly intimate gesture, finding himself quite familiar with Timur’s body. “I think yours is cute.” 

A bashfulness overcame Timur and he leaned forwards to give him a kiss, lingering for a moment before he pulled away by the slightest, their foreheads still in contact. “That feels so strange,” he said in reference to the bristly hairs of their upper lips brushing against one another.

So Maxim did it again and kissed him deep, the movements of their lips slow yet firm. It felt strange now, but he reckoned they ought to get used to this. It was going to be like this for the rest of the month. 


	5. Bedtime Tenderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another usual night with Timur and Maxim. They share a tender moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing to note in this chapter, just some mild intimacy between them but nothing outrageous or spicier than usual. Enjoy!

“I’ll wait for you in bed.” 

A line most often said by Maxim, followed by a light peck against Timur’s cheek before he left the bathroom. Sometimes the door was left open, other times closed. Tonight it was closed to keep the heat in while the shower ran, the sound of water splashing against the tub just audible in the heavy silence of the apartment. 

The soft chime of a bell grew louder then a flash of white pounced onto the bed. It was Koshka darting over to subdue Maxim’s toes wiggling under the bed covers. Once she was sure she had slain her target, she brought her attention to Maxim who beckoned for her to come over. She trekked along the lumpy duvet before finding sanctuary in Maxim’s arms, her purrs like a fine motor as he scratched the perfect spot behind her ear. As she settled to lie down against his chest, he kissed her head several times and in response, she nudged against the prickly hairs of his chin. 

Within fifteen minutes, the bathroom door opened. Timur emerged, wearing _that_ pair of navy briefs- the ones Maxim liked the most because of how nicely they fit and the contrast of the dark colour against Timur’s skin tone. Koshka reluctantly got up without having to be told. By now she had learned that bedtime was associated with a period where she would be barred from the bedroom for a duration of time, whether that be twenty minutes to even an hour. There would be strange noises, the occasional creaking or possibly slamming and no one would respond to her scratching against the door.

Having reached the conclusion that she would be let back in eventually, Koshka stalked off in wait for her turn of affections.

Maxim watched with a lazy gaze, following Timur as he put dirty clothes into the laundry basket, applied moisturiser to his face, inspected himself over in the mirror several times. Once satisfied, he approached the bed and peeled the covers away so he could claim his rightful place in Maxim’s lap. 

“You seem tired,” Maxim commented as he ran his hands up Timur’s thighs for his daily reminder of how much he loved every single aspect of this body. He smelled fantastic and Maxim noted the scent of a new body wash, nuzzling his face into the muscles of Timur’s defined chest. 

Timur weaved his fingers through Maxim’s hair and appreciated the sensation of hands running up and down his body in a calming manner. “Just tired. I joined Elias in the gym today and he suggested I try to lift heavier, just for fun. I hit a new record,” he told him, eyes closed and simply enjoying this moment.

“I can feel it.” The rigidity of worn muscles after a workout, tendons and sinews pulled taut from exertion. Maxim gave a light squeeze to provoke a reaction and quickly remedied it by pressing a kiss against Timur’s pectoral. He continued to pepper his lips upwards to Timur’s clavicles. “We can just sleep if you wanna.”

Undecided, Timur didn’t respond. He had each hand clasped on either side of Maxim’s face, holding him steady to catch his gaze. It seemed like sometimes Timur just wanted to stare at his face and take in all his features from the scars to the age beginning to show in wrinkles and the odd grey hair on his chin. It was hard to tell what Timur wanted, especially with his neutral expression, but given the teasing pause between them, he was in a slightly playful mood.

“Don’t look so grumpy,” Timur implored with a raise of his brows, a thumb rubbing against the scar under Maxim’s eye. At the request, he tried to raise the corners of his mouth into a smile of some sorts. “Seems like you want to sleep more than I do.”

“Get to my age and you’ll just want to hibernate through the winter,” Maxim said and wrapped his arms around him a little more snug, making sure to keep him close. The warmth of Timur’s body was addicting and the weight of heavy muscle even more so. “And when I get to hold you, I could sleep until the sun swallows the earth.”

A hum under his breath to appreciate the sentiment, then Timur followed his lingering desire and he captured Maxim’s lips in a deep kiss. He adored the way their bodies slotted against one another in such a perfect manner, the tandem movement of their lips understanding the rhythm between them so well. A hand slipped under the waistband of his underwear, but not to touch in a lustful manner. Maxim just liked to have his hand under the elastic, his palm cupping Timur’s cheek. 

They would remain like this for an undetermined amount of time, however long until either Timur got too warm or Maxim wished to sleep on his side. Heavy-set thighs draped over Maxim’s legs and in the darkness of their room, he focused on the expansion and contraction of Timur’s chest with every breath, embraced securely within the older man's arms. There was no other sensation in the universe that was alike to having the weight of one’s lover to be their blanket and Maxim adored the pressure of Timur's body against his own. 

It was going to be a quiet evening tonight and soon enough Koshka returned when she realised she had never been locked out to begin with. The bell of her collar announced her presence and she joined them in bed, choosing to curl up by Maxim’s head.


	6. Hooked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxim and Timur go fishing.

A snap, followed by the quiet whirr of the camera presenting the Polaroid. It was always a pleasant surprise to see the result, whether the slightest movements had caused the image to blur or if it was a perfectly developed shot. There was something immensely satisfying, if not comforting, to Timur about capturing a precise memory and holding it within his hands, knowing later he could look back on these fond moments.

Before, Maxim would be caught off guard by the sound of the camera, though after numerous, long talks about how candid shots captured honesty in the subject and a lot more details he didn’t remember, he learned to remain still and composed, even if his body would flare red hot at the thought of being photographed. 

“Handsome,” Timur complimented with a chuckle, admiring the photograph in his hand before he tucked it away somewhere safe. 

Maxim raised a brow and adjusted the way his bucket hat was resting on his head. If anything, he was quite the state. Cargo shorts, cigarette hanging from his lip, bare chest reddened from the afternoon sun. “You should check your bait,” he suggested with a small smile. Fishing wasn’t exactly Timur’s forte, oftentimes he was too quick to reel in, other times he would let the fish nibble away at the worm on his hook. 

“Ah, shit.” Just as expected, Timur reeled in to find his hook naked, bar a few remnants of a worm left uneaten. He cast his line again after setting another worm for sacrifice. The folding chairs they sat on gave a squeak as he settled down next to Maxim, clutching the rod with a firm grip and keeping an iron gaze on the bobber. “You’ve caught so many. I’ve caught… three.”

“It’s because you keep staring at me,” Maxim pointed out as he stubbed his cigarette on the ground. He took off his hat and placed it onto Timur’s head, making a face in response to the younger man’s grimace at the scent of cigarette smoke- or was it an expression of protest at the comment? “Here, before your head gets sunburnt again.” 

Despite squinting in the intense sunlight, Maxim’s gaze was fond. He smiled towards Timur’s concentration, how he held the rod with a finger resting against the taut string to feel for the fish pecking at the bait. Later on, he would teach Timur how to prepare the fish for dinner, perhaps nag at him for holding the knife improperly or being too gentle about descaling the skin. 

Realising he was being watched, Timur quickly leaned in to press his lips against Maxim’s cheek, just over the apex of his cheekbone. The warm contact lingered for a brief second and Maxim cherished it while it lasted. In a sudden jerk, Timur moved away and yanked his rod back. “I got one!”


	7. Cat Hairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxim and Timur sleep through their alarm.

Maxim used to poke fun at Timur for talking to Koshka, but little did he realise he did it just as much. Asking what she wanted, if she was hungry, what she was looking at. The genuine apology for disrupting her sleep to pry her from his pillow to the gruff scolding for using the side of the sofa as a scratch post. Whether Koshka understood or cared, that was up for debate.

It was one of those mornings where the alarm didn’t ring- or they somehow managed to sleep through it after so many years of discipline to wake up on particular morning hours the second the minute hand struck twelve. Neither of them knew how it happened, though they didn’t have time to bicker and argue about it.

A quick coffee as they scrambled to get out the house under fifteen minutes tops. The chores were beginning to build up, no one had the energy to fold the dried laundry so it sat wrinkled in the tumbling machine for days now. Maxim dug around for his other sock, brows furrowed as he searched and searched only to find an odd pair, so he settled for wearing one black sock and one white sock. It looked ridiculous, but no one was going to see it.

“Training starts in twenty minutes,” Timur pointed out, omitting the part where the drive to base was at least twenty-five minutes. It didn’t matter, Maxim had already done the maths in his head and he feared he was going to burst a blood vessel out of stress. “You’re not gonna drink your coffee?”

With one shoe on, Maxim sauntered up to the kitchen counter. The cup was still steaming, but he chugged it down without flinching before continuing on his search for his phone because _‘I swear I left it on the sofa, it was right there last night!’_ And in that precise moment, Timur knew how they ended up late for work. 

It was behind the sofa cushions. It took them ten phone calls before Koshka began pawing at the source of the vibrations. Phone located, Maxim fished up the car keys and signalled to leave. They poured into the hallway and the second he locked the door, he realised he forgot his jacket. He rushed back in, snatched it from the arm of the sofa and hurried back out to find Timur was holding the elevator for him.

“Don’t speed this time or we’ll get pulled over,” Timur muttered with a small smirk, staring at him through the mirrored walls of the elevator, but Maxim was too busy fussing over his jacket to notice. 

No amount of picking could get rid of all the white hairs clinging to the cotton fibres of his hoodie, stark and visible against the dark navy. Maxim grumbled and took it off. “She slept on my clothes again.”

“You left it there _because_ you know she likes sleeping on it,” Timur pointed out and he beckoned for the car keys. It was never good to place Maxim in congested traffic, especially in the driver’s seat. Timur’s tone held a daring playfulness where he was fully aware of the risks with poking at Maxim, but he decided against his better judgement and in good faith that the older man was only mildly annoyed and not genuinely upset. “Wanna go back up and get the lint roller, baby? We’re already late, a couple minutes won’t matter.”

The term of endearment knocked Maxim out of his thoughts, any lingering tensions calmed by Timur’s broad smile. A small grin that assured him they were in this together if it was any consolation. Maxim drew a deep breath to cool himself down, realising this kind of frustration wasn’t necessary. His thin lips worked into a reluctant smile and he patted his trouser pocket absentmindedly. His cigarettes weren’t there, left on the kitchen counter. He let out an exasperated sigh and did not mention it, but Timur knew what was wrong and hid his smile.


	8. A Little Bit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxim senses Koshka has some sort of sentience about his inner feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last drabble. This is a short one, but a cute little scenario. Local man talks to his cat, local cat has no clue what's going on.

Maxim had little issue being apart with Timur, especially when it came to taking time for their own friends and having separate social lives. The difference being that Timur did a little more than popping down to the pub once in a while to talk shit with the lads and get drunk. It came as a pleasant surprise when he mentioned he was going over to Mark’s place for dinner and Maxim, while confused, acknowledged it and told him to have a good time.

It left him alone with Koshka for the evening. He cooked dinner and she was more than happy to taste test, though he fixed her a couple chicken wings so she wouldn’t pester him for a bite of his own food. Over the months, they had formed a truce of some sorts. As long as she had her own meal, she would leave him alone during dinner. Maxim often called her a princess while also indulging in her behaviour at any given chance.

He ran a bath for himself later on, the urge striking him so suddenly. It seemed that once the two of them were left alone, Koshka became incredibly insistent to stick to him like glue. She followed him into the bathroom and refused to leave. Seeing how it would be, Maxim ignored her and got in the tub, ready to soak for an hour.

Finding peace proved to be difficult when he was painfully aware there was someone watching. Despite describing himself as someone who was in tune with nature, a squeamishness had taken over Maxim. An embarrassment of some sort from being stared at and he wondered if Koshka had any concept of nakedness. He opened his eyes to find her perched on the edge of the bathtub, taking in his expression with an eager gaze. 

“What?” He touched a dripping hand to her cheek. “What are you looking at?”

She responded with a low purr, almost adapting to the human method of communication. Gingerly, she approached closer to sniff his wet hair and licked her bristly tongue against his damp temples. 

“I’m not jealous,” Maxim answered her silence and he turned to look at her. “He goes wherever he wants. They’re just friends.”

A slow blink. One in understanding? Maxim couldn’t tell, but he appreciated her presence. Koshka continued to sit poised and listening, graceful as ever. 

“Okay, maybe I am- a tiny bit,” he considered after several minutes, taking back his initial statement. “I’m a lonely bastard, aren’t I?”

Koshka agreed with a _hrmph!_ and demanded more scratches behind her ear.

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is [@CompoundZ8](https://twitter.com/CompoundZ8)  
> My Tumblr is [erc-7](https://erc-7.tumblr.com)


End file.
